


Archive of love accidents

by Dziabara



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic, Drabble Collection, Drunken Confessions, Established Relationship, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Oral Sex, Prompt Fic, Romance, Yuuri's smile is the world's biggest treasure, sex on kitchen coutertop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-03-04 06:59:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13358958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dziabara/pseuds/Dziabara
Summary: That the everyday life of Victor and Yuuri is full of all sorts of surprising situations, we already know, but how many such small scenes escapes behind the curtain of life - you will find out about it from the secret archives in possession of Phichit Chulanont......which is a collection of drabbles written under the influence of the moment and madness (and prompts).





	1. The beggining

Phichit Chulanont was not such a genius of evil as he sometimes (but only sometimes!) looked like. He was not a spy with a thousand faces, though he was certainly considered a figure skater with a thousand selfies on Instagram. He was also far from eminent politician who skillfully manipulated information, though it was disturbing how much he knew about the one most-loved couple in figure skating of last months...

...of which this couple did not even realize. Lucky for them. Or not.

Two years ago nobody had expected what this would happen to. That his best friend with the best figure skater of the ISU Judging System? As he lives and breathes, if he expected it... and if he didn't support them. And look, how a fate proved to be kind. He has the power, didn't he?

Satisfied Thai closed the album he had prepared for his friends and set it aside, then pulled out the bottom drawer to pull out one of several files belonging to his constantly growing archive. Interestingly, he managed to use only a small fraction of these resources, and a whole lot of fragments, reports, photos, comments, screenshots and some millions of other reports were still waiting their turn to see the light of day. Maybe it will never happen. Perhaps some of that spicy details were not intended for anyone's eyes or ears. Perhaps a dark drawer is all that they could count on.

Or maybe, who knows? Maybe it's the right time and place to take care of them?

Fingers turning next pages stopped halfway through the heap. So why not? He had time, willingness, the night was still young... Phichit smiled under his breath and before any of three hamsters hanging on the desk tried to talk some sense into him, he pulled out another notebook and a roll of double-sided tape.

And he again felt this familiar thrill and call of inspiration. Yes, that was it.

It's time to start a new story.


	2. If a little is good, more must be better

Idea: _In a moment, he was lying on the floor on his stomach, he had a chair between his legs, and his feet were hanging on the edge of the table._

 

***

Victor swallowed. The position, in which Yuuri was flexing in front of him, was simply stunning, even if over the last year Victor had seen quite a lot. He admired the drunken Japanese skater hanging on a pole and reaching out to him. He remembered Yuuri practicing yoga with him on a roof of the Hasetsu castle. To this day in most beautiful dreams he recalled some intoxicating nights, when desire and a one mattress were too small for both of them...

But he hadn't seen Yuuri in this state. Until now. Until the banquet just after the winning NHK Trophy.

Because here Yuuri had done an impossible thing, something wonderful and absurd at the same time. Just a moment ago he was swaying on the edge of a bench full of snacks, and then... In a moment, he was lying on the floor on his stomach, he had a chair between his legs, and his feet were hanging on the edge of the table. His whole body seemed to break space-time, some laws of physics, probably the Pythagorean theorem and even a common sense of dozen or so physiotherapists. And yet Yuuri lived, moreover, he was perfectly fine and smiled as brightly as he saw an angel in front of him. And maybe he actually saw some miracle, because, for some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes off Nikiforov.

“Victor...?” he made sure, trying to blow out a necktie drooping on his forehead. Unsuccessfully. In the end, the one Victor chose for him was made of a really good and elegant material.

“Y-yes?” the Russian replied, not sure if all of that wasn’t just a simple dream. But no.

“Victor... Victor!” Yuuri shouted, spreading his arms like a child pretending to be a plane. “Be my husband, Victor!”

Yes, right. The gold medal waiting in their room, engagement rings still present on their right hands, and now the proposal - everything matched with the state of Victor’s dreams about their future life. And maybe that's why, stunned by that unexpected confession, Victor couldn’t imagine to say anything else but…

"Of horse, my _zolotsye_ ," he replied, releasing recently removed trousers from his hands, and then he dropped to his knees to take his beloved in his no less drunken arms. “Of horse!”


	3. Love and vitamins should be carefully dosed

Idea: _my own_

 

Yuuri really did not want to bring up that subject. He avoided it like the plague or tried to ignore it, thinking that it could be the beginning of the end of what they had been building so long for those last months. But he couldn’t. The problem came back to him like a boomerang, especially in the morning, when he saw Victor in an apron just bustling around the kitchen, preparing coffee and sandwiches for him. Someone whom he regarded as the personification of all virtues, as the walking ideal and the man who existed to admire him, at 7:28 Moscow time was dancing in a cool St. Petersburg apartment, winked at an dumbfounded fiancée (exactly, fiancée!) and humming under his nose melody of "Eros", he was shining around with his naked buttocks.

"I can't believe..." Yuuri hesitated, glancing from the refrigerator to the sink and from the sink to the table.

"But what?" Victor asked, putting a prepared meal before his beloved, then sat down opposite him to be able to enjoy Yuuri's delighted reactions. "How is it possible that I am so sexy? Or how is it possible that I love you so much?"

Yuuri looked at Victor, looked at the plate with breakfast, then sighed with resignation, unable to escape these words.

"...I can't believe I'm still letting you cook," Yuuri finished and carefully removed the slice of apple from his sandwich.


	4. Kitchen (r)evolutions

Idea: _sex on the kitchen countertop_

 

***

It was never going to end well - not after that how lovely Yuuri was laughing, when Victor unsuccessfully tried to mix cocoa and butter with still cold milk, and not after situation, when Victor, in revenge, playfully licked chocolate off Yuuri's fingers, which he had to cut as an addition to prepared muffins. Because this 'playfully' changed in 'boldly', 'boldly' in 'slowly', 'slowly' in 'sexily'... And after "sexily" it got so hot and stuffy, and yet they didn't even turn on the oven. Removing aprons didn't help, unbuttoning shirts also, so to get some air, Victor lifted Yuuri up a little higher to set him on the kitchen countertop. But it also didn't help at all. Actually, things got even worse.

Ah, right. They couldn't catch their breath because of it how passionately they kissed.

"Vic... Mm... Victor..." Yuuri murmured, his lips almost completely covered by his fiancée. “Mi... Milk...”

Victor understood. He moved away a bit, reached out and turn the fire off under the saucepan, in which some of muffin mass was being prepared. Well, they probably shouldn't change their tried and tested recipe for cherry muffins. That chocolate ones were tricky. Very tricky.

"Don't play with your food," Victor said with a wide smile, taking care of Yuuri's trousers.

“You're one to talk.” Yuuri got closer and licked off with a tip of his tongue a chocolate trace located at Victor's cheek. “Admit it. You just waited for the opportunity to have some fun in the kitchen, huh?”

“Rather to finally try the best katsudon in the world correctly. Here, on the table, with my own lips...” he whispered, then bent over to sink between Yuuri's thighs. “Dessert... can wait...”

Yuuri couldn't denied. If he shouted anything, there were only a few incomprehensible words calling God and whoever he could that "Victor ...!". And whatever Victor had to do, he did it so loudly, so quickly and so deeply that Yuuri soon lost even this poor ability of uncomplicated communication and simply mewled, quietly and seductively. In these sounds there was the euphoria related with experienced pleasure, remnants of decency (because milk was cooled, although his body was so absurdly hot), the desire that this moment would never end and the warning that it would end soon, but something... or maybe someone quite different. After all, all these emotions mixed into one long moan. Yuuri clenched his hands on the edge of the countertop and leaning so far that his forehead practically touched cool wall tiles, he came in Victor's mouth.

“Ahh... Victor... Vitya... I... It was...” Yuuri tried to put it in words, but he couldn't. But, speaking of the devil, Victor was really interested in 'putting' something, uhm, more than simply words,

“It was really quick in the first place, honey.” Viktor licked his lips, not even blinking. “I didn't know that you're into that sort of thing... In that case, what about a bit of whipped cream to whet our appetites? So? Where do you want me to smear it on you?”

“You know where?” Yuuri whispered, sitting down before weakness after orgasm would take control over him. And before the phrase "sexy katsudon" would associate with only one event. “In bedroom. Before I can't look at the kitchen normally.”


	5. Love is always the strongest

Idea: _drabble-smut_

 

Although the night was dark, it was not terrible. It was quiet, but not soundless. Snowy, but not cruel. Even cold and distant from dawn, they were never alone. Not when they found consolation in their arms, not when they were connected by their kisses, forgetting about the whole world... Lips by lips, chest by chest... And further, and deeper, and more... Yuuri's skin covered by love marks, legs raised in ecstasy, hands holding Victor as the most precious treasure, so simply and endlessly. Entwined, connected, in love and lost. Gifted with tenderness, filled with happiness, two people wanting to be without restraint.

Just as they were whispering to each other without restraint...

"...I love you..."


	6. Memory loss is (not) serious

Idea: _my own_

 

***

"Don't care about him. He's just a jerk. Okay, he's a bald jerk. A bald jerk to the power of balding. He should keep balding, this... bald eagle," Yurio was grumbling under his nose, but when he glanced at strangely silent Yuuri, he hissed and repeated his speech. "Okay, I won't hide it. He just fucked up. He acted like the last asshole. Twelve to ten on the scale of irresponsibility. And it better not happen no more, but no! First, he ignored some little shit, then he forget about my promise, and now this!

"Relax, Yurio. It's no big deal." Yuuri took last errands from the bag and smiled tired. "I think Victor didn't want to..."

Katsuki defending clearly guilty Nikiforov made the teenager even more irritable. He stretched like a violin string, glared at Yuuri and acting as if Victor had finally committed treason, Yurio growled.

"Didn''t want to?! Of course he didn't want! His Assjesty is just lazy as hell! And he didn't even call to you! This loser isn't suitable for living with anyone!"

"Yurio, he just didn't buy peas," Yuuri said calmly. "It's okay."

"What _it's okay_? What _it's okay_?" Yurio jumped up the kitchen chair and accusingly pointed to Nikiforov, sleeping on the couch like someone who did nothing wrong with this not the first and certainly not the last kitchen plague. "Nothing is okay because you were supposed to make katsudon!"

 


	7. Nice bad duties

Idea: _He set one task for this day. One and the only thing he had to do: not be seduced._

 

***

He set one task for this day. One and the only thing he had to do: not be seduced. He knew that just on that day he had to be as firm as ever before, that he must do what had to be done and that there is absolutely no room for sentiments or for drowning in someone's beautiful gaze. He should be a professional and be able to separate work and private issues. Yes, and he should be like Yakov - indifferent, somewhat haughty and unyielding. That next time he could tell the old trainer that yes, he could say "no" and was not under nobody's thumb (although Yakov simultaneously praised the conscientiousness of some Japanese feet).

Fine. That's exactly what he will do. He will end the conversation at the right moment and without hesitating he will look away before other eyes become glazed with tears. He can not do it. Not this time.

And, in fact, his motivation seemed exceptionally strong. For some, uhm, four minutes.

"Victor?" The Russian, lost in thought, turned his head at the sound of his name, and then, without warning, he was attacked by these full, brown, absurdly beautiful eyes. Victor's gaze slipped from the face of his fiance to his neck, then followed his outstretched arm right to the cafe's window, where was featured a poster about the latest promotion. "So... May I invite you for these new fruit pancakes?

Oh, God. No, no, he can not be fooled. He will not do it. And it's not like that Yuuri, holding him by the hand, had pressed him harder so Victor's legs buckled under him. He never ever thought about that he would be able to justify evening, well, exercise with the necessity of burning excess calories. _Niet_. Not at all.

"But only without chocolate," Victor agreed, opening the shop door before Yuuri.

So... maybe... next time?


	8. Secrets of alcove

Idea: _my own_

 

***

“Yuuri ...?” Victor asked, gently brushing black hair from his beloved's forehead.

“Mhm?” Yuuri murmured in return, letting him know that he heard and understood him, although he cannot answer because his mouth was quite... well... occupied. Certain activities, however, required some concentration. Worrying about teeth, using the tongue, keeping him vertically... and, yes, breathing. Mostly breathing. It would be really stupid to strangle at a time like _this_.

And yet all his self-control and calm did not manage to prepare Yuuri for the upcoming question.

“Tell me... Why... Why are you calling me ‘Vitya’ during sex so willingly?” Victor asked without any shame or, even worse, without any sign of concern for the sensitive heart of his fiancé.

Yuuri almost choked. He immediately looked up from Victor's crotch and looked at him with eyes round with surprise. That was not a bad question - it was said at the worst possible moment. Victor could have asked for anything else, like _can you take me deeper?_ or even that trivial _do you realize that I love you even more than yesterday?_. Really, everything would be much more in place. But could not he stand those few minutes until Yuuri would repay him properly for the previous half hour, before he would start so gratefully humorous pillow talk?

“Well, you promised that you'll call me like this only in special situations... But today you probably broke your own record,” Victor continued, completely undeterred. And although the situation was as unambiguous as it could have been, Victor apparently forgot what to do with his attention, because he was focused on stroking Yuuri's cheek with tenderness. “So today was really special, wasn’t it? I did great, right?”

Ah, so that's why he was so concern about... Embarrassed Yuuri wanted to escape from Victor's gaze, but, to be honest, he did not know where. Staring down was not much simpler... Okay, it was simpler. In some ways. And because of certain simply reacting parts of Victor's body.

"Every time is special," Yuuri said softly, staring at the bedclothes. “And it's easier for me.”

“What's easier?”

"...to scream," he confessed.

“To scream?” Victor repeated again, apparently not quite understanding the connection between those two things, but Yuuri really wanted to end that strange confession. After all, he would not say that he tried to give Victor more pleasure and a faster orgasm. No. Just no way.

“Because ‘Vitya’ has an ‘A’ at the end,” he replied and dived under the quilt, putting it partly on Victor.

“But what does it have to do with our situa... aaa... aaah...!” Victor wanted to ask, but he only opened his mouth, wriggled on the pillow and groaning satisfactorily loud as his cock sank back into Yuuri's mouth.

Long ‘A’ has turned into an enthusiastic ‘U’ in another, equally beloved name.


	9. Love is blond (and sometimes cold)

Idea: _We have nice spring this winter._

 

***

This morning was practically perfect. Victor, as befits a perfect fiancé, entered into the bedroom with two cups of freshly brewed coffee, walked on tiptoe to the king's bed, leaned over the slowly (very slowly) waking fiancé and warmly kissed him on the forehead, while giving the man the assignment portion of hot drink. Then he carefully stepped back, giving Yuuri the time to make contact with reality, returned to the window, and standing next to him, he began to look at St. Petersburg, covered in a dim, gray half-shade. Victor looked so proud of himself, as if some sort of cliché-like sentence circulated around his head, _like I’m the happiest man in the world, since I can wake up such a sweet beauty every day_ or _I was born to be coffee waiter_.

"We have nice spring this winter," Victor said unexpectedly, and with a smile so wide that he could embarrass sun, still quite weak at this hour, he took a small sip of coffee.

Yuuri's hand stopped halfway to the cup that was left on the bedside table. That’s right. Practically perfect.

“Wait, what?” he asked.

"Well, spring," Victor repeated, nodding his head towards the admired view. “It's extremely warm and peaceful. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if the primroses started to bloom right away. Makkachin loves them. Whenever he finds one, he digs it with his nose, as if he wants to help it grow…”

Yes, this morning was practically perfect. Practically. Because in fact Yuuri threw a quilt over his shoulders, got out of bed, approached his fiancé and touched the window with his finger.

“Victor. I know that you have a really wide definition of the seasons,” he admitted, then tapped the glass, pointing to some snowdrifts lying under their apartment “but it's minus ten degrees, snow like on Antarctida, and the only thing that grows is illegal trade of woolen scarves!”


	10. The most beautiful man in the world

Yuuri, living over all this years in three countries, many breakfast activities have already seen. In the primary school, he watched late colleagues running with sandwiches in their hands, he regularly saw students eating behind standing notebooks or while diving under benches, and in St. Petersburg he sometimes was a part of small Dantean scenes setting in the canteen when some belated juniors, even before going to school, were attacking plates of borscht.  
  
And yet nothing could compare to the dignity with which Victor Nikiforov, his own trainer, competitor, roommate and fiancée (oh God...) in one ate a toast, while preparing for a somewhat late incoming at the Club. Well, it was an absolutely breakneck task: making sure that Makkachin did not pull something from the cleaned table, cleaning up the aforementioned top, putting on a jacket and still holding in his teeth a slice of bread smeared with a solid layer of currant jam from invaluable grandmother Wania, trying to do not allow gravity to test the truth of Murphy's law on falling bread with a side smeared on the floor. Ouch, what a madness... And yet Victor looked in all this chaos like a model taken out of the journal, with his smile not only on the lips but also at the corners of serene eyes, with hair neither flying nor smoothly combed, just right, as always, and dance silhouette, when one of his hand slipped into the sleeve of a sweatshirt, and the other scratched the poodle behind a downy ear. And even this antigravity toast had something extraordinary in it. Because he proved that Victor was also a man, he also ate like a madman and also had his weaknesses.  
  
Oh, for example, he had a weakness for his beloved fiancé.  
  
"Yuuri... Don't devour me with such eyes. You have already eaten your breakfast," Victor laughed as soon as the kitchen was cleaned up, Makkachin stroked, and a fragment of toast was in the palm of his hand when the Russian approached the door. "We have to leave immediately. Are you ready?"  
  
Occupying the threshold of their apartment, Yuuri slid the last zipper of his backpack, threw it on his shoulders, fastened the buckle on his chest and finally kissed Victor in the currant flavored lips. Perfect.  
  
"For you? Always," he gave a coquetry answer and grabbed Victor's hand, smiling like the most lucky man.  
  
Because with such a man he could take over the world or... or eat toasts.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want, you can follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/dziabara) and [Tumblr](http://dziabara.tumblr.com/) to know about updates!  
> Thank you so much for reading! <3


End file.
